


puppy love

by garbagetozier



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Teenage Losers Club (IT), like really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagetozier/pseuds/garbagetozier
Summary: growing up and moving away is hard.but it gets even harder when unresolved feelings for your best friend are involved.inspired by the song "puppy love" by paul anka
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 9





	puppy love

**Author's Note:**

> and they called it puppy love  
> oh I guess they’ll never know  
> how a young heart really feels  
> and why I love her so  
> -puppy love, paul anka

It was June 25th, 1994, and the music being played out of the gymnasium of Derry High School could be heard from a block away in any direction. That year’s graduating class were currently celebrating their last night as high school seniors, dancing the night away and actually enjoying themselves at school- something that most of the students had never experienced before. The entire grade had been ushered into the small gymnasium for the night- with the exception of certain students.

The self-titled “Losers Club” were exactly where they were meant to be: isolated from the party and hiding out in the boy’s bathroom across the hall from the gym.

Richie Tozier sat on the sink with a cigarette between his lips as he unbuttoned his jacket. “This is fucking bullshit,” he said, tossing the formal navy blue blazer his mother had forced him to wear to the ground. Underneath, to no one’s surprise, he wore a white dress shirt patterned with colourful tropical flowers and leaves.

“Oh, come on, Richie,” said Stanley, who sat at the opposite end of the sinks, “don’t get so worked up just cause no one wanted to go to prom with you.” The others snickered with Stanley, but Richie just held his middle finger up in response and turned to look at his reflection in the dirty mirror. _It’s not that no one wanted to go with me,_ Richie thought miserably, _I just didn’t have the balls to ask the person I wanted to go with._

Not that that made things any better.

The fact that the person he had wanted to go with had been standing beside him for the entire night didn’t help either. Eddie Kaspbrak stood directly opposite of Richie, his arms crossed over his chest sternly and his foot tapping against the tile floor at a rapid pace. Eddie wore a dusty black suit that fit him horribly- it was so oversized that it looked like it had been made for his mother to wear instead- but Richie still found it hard to keep his eyes off of him. Eddie, on the other hand, was preoccupied with being overly-anxious about the possibility of getting caught smoking and drinking on school property (“ _ and at a school event, no less!” _ he kept reminding them). Beverly had somewhat comforted him by dismantling the sprinklers (a trick she had taught herself and had already performed in every girl’s bathroom in the school), but no one missed Eddie’s eyes darting up to the ceiling every few minutes.

They slowly got drunk off of the liquor that Richie had stolen from his father, something he would get punished for later, but he didn’t give a single shit about it in the moment. Even Ben and Stanley, who rarely took part in any smoking or drinking with the Losers, took a few swigs from the flask and had a few puffs from Bill’s cigarette. Eddie, as usual, refused to take part in any of it. Richie was surprised when Eddie even joined them in the bathroom in the first place; Eddie hated breaking the rules. 

When Beverly knocked back the last swig of the liquor in the flask, she sighed and stepped away from the wall she had been leaning against. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” she said. 

“What are you talking about?” asked Richie as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

“ _ This, _ ” she said, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol. “Tonight’s the beginning of our last summer with all of us together. We don’t have that much time left before this idiot leaves-” she gestured over her shoulder to Eddie, who started to argue back, but Beverly continued, “and what- is this what we’re going to spend the next two months doing? Sitting around like a bunch of idiots, feeling sorry for ourselves?” Her voice wavered slightly, and she took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know about you assholes, but I don’t want to spend the rest of tonight in a literal shithole.” She dropped her cigarette and crushed it with the heel of her shoe. She pushed past her friends- who were all surprised by Beverly’s sudden outburst- and stumbled over to the door, and when she grabbed the handle, she looked back over her shoulder, her red painted lips stretching into a smile across her face. “Coming?” 

Ben was the first to scramble to his feet and follow Beverly out of the bathroom. Mike went next, then Stan jumped off the sink and walked out with his arm slung around Bill’s shoulders. Eddie quickly began to follow, but came to a halt when he noticed that Richie hadn’t moved from his spot on the sink. He was staring down at the cigarette between his fingers, which was now reduced to essentially nothing, but a thin line of smoke still rose from the end. 

“Are you coming?” Eddie asked. “Or are you gonna stay here and just be sad about the fact that you couldn’t get someone to come with you?” 

“Yeah,” Richie replied woefully, stubbing out his cigarette against the bathroom mirror, “it was too bad Sonia was too busy to come tonight.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, a “ _ fuck you _ ” on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed his words back down when he saw the blank look on Richie’s face instead of the smug grin that always accompanied a joke about Eddie’s mother. “Seriously, Richie, what is it?”

Richie  _ could _ have told the truth. He could have told Eddie that what Bev said about this being their last summer together had been occupying his mind for  _ days _ and it had been bothering him a fuck-ton. He could have admitted how he was pissed at himself that he hadn’t asked Eddie out. He could have told him how the only thing he wanted was to take Eddie’s hand and walk out of the bathroom with him onto the dancefloor. 

No.

He couldn’t say any of that. 

“I’m seriously pissed about your mom,” Richie ended up saying, jumping off the sinks and walking past Eddie. He paused when he reached the door, looking over his shoulder just as Beverly had done, and shot Eddie a wink. “But she’ll make it up to me another time.” 

Eddie didn’t believe Richie’s half-assed answer for a second, but the other boy had already walked out of the bathroom. Eddie sighed, looking down at his shoes which, like everything else he was wearing, were too big for him and made him feel awkward. The only part of him that felt somewhat right was his heart: warm, full, beating with exhilaration. 

He tried to ignore the feeling. And he tried even harder to ignore the fact that he only felt that way when he was around Richie. 

When Richie and Eddie stepped back into the gymnasium, the other Losers were already on the dance floor. Richie’s eyes immediately landed on Beverly, her fiery curls bobbing up and down as she danced with Ben. Ben had changed a lot since the first summer he had spent with the Losers; his belly no longer hung over the waistband of his pants, he had somewhat of a defined jawline, and had shot up an entire half a foot. Despite that, the way his whole face turned the colour of a tomato whenever he was close to Bev hadn’t changed at all.

Eddie had warned his friends at the beginning of the night about the amount of alcohol they had been drinking, but with the way that Stanley and Bill were dancing and laughing abnormally loudly, it was clear that the two had not listened to Eddie’s advice. Stanley had always been the most prim and proper of all of his friends, and Bill the most responsible, and although they had loosened up over the years, Richie had never seen his friends in a state quite like this- voluntarily dancing in public, smiling so wide that their eyes were barely open, hollering out lyrics to the songs playing over the speakers (although their “singing” consisted mostly of words just drunkenly combined together into gibberish). 

Despite Beverly sneaking in the alcohol by stashing the flask in the bottom of her handbag and Richie lighting a cigarette before they had even entered the bathroom, the riskiest thing the group had done that night was sneak Mike into the school after the dance had started. Since he was homeschooled and not a student at Derry High, Mike wasn’t permitted to attend the dance; however, the Losers had not planned on letting that stop them. It only took Beverly, wearing a stunning dress with a low dip in the front (which all of the boys were somewhat surprised to see her in) talking to the teacher standing at the entrance to the gymnasium to serve as a suitable distraction for them to slip Mikey in without attracting any attention to themselves. 

Despite having drank nearly all of the alcohol he had brought, Richie still did not feel anywhere near drunk enough to be carelessly dancing the way his friends were, but he found himself approaching them anyways. And although under normal circumstances he probably would have completely embarrassed himself, when he looked and saw Eddie at his side, smiling back at him, Richie couldn’t care less what anyone else thought of him. So he accepted Bill’s outstretched hands and allowed his friend to spin him around to the pop song that was playing, and Richie let himself laugh and have fun. And sure, even though he hadn’t asked Eddie to prom, as they danced together, and when Richie took his hand and bent him into a dip that resulted in the two of them on the floor and Eddie  _ laughed _ , Richie could still imagine. 

Richie and Eddie were not the only ones who came to the dance solo; it was only anticipated that none of the Losers were going to bring a date- and they lived up to that expectation. Beverly, who had turned down the invitations of several Derry students who had asked her, instead drifted among her friends, dancing with each boy for a song and, in a way, acting as all of their dates. When she got to Richie, she took his hand and began to stray away from the rest of the group. 

“Shit, Bev, if you wanted to get me alone all you had to do was ask,” teased Richie, his hand finding her waist as they began to dance together.

“Beep-beep, Richie,” replied Beverly, putting her other hand on his shoulder. “I do need to ask you something, though.”

“Anything you want, darling.” 

“When are you going to tell Eddie that you like him?”

Beverly’s voice was soft, but her words felt like a cutting slap to the face. Richie stopped in his tracks, his grin melting off his face. “ _ What _ ?”

Beverly arched an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re not that great at hiding it. I’ve known for ages.” 

“You don’t know shit,” murmured Richie, avoiding her eyes. 

“I know that you’re completely in love with him,” she said. Although her voice was low, Richie felt as though everyone standing around them could hear her. 

“You’re wrong-”

“I see the way you look at him,” Beverly continued, “and the way you’re always annoying and teasing him-” 

“ _ Shut up- _ ”

“How much longer are you going to pretend that you’re only friends-”

“ _ I said shut it, Bev!” _ ****

Richie didn’t remember pushing her, but the next thing he knew, Bev’s hands were torn off of him and she was knocked backwards. Music continued to play, but all conversation and dancing between the other students had quieted down, and Richie found a hundred pairs of eyes staring back at him.

Beverly’s green eyes grew wide as they filled with terror, as she held her hands over her chest protectively. “Richie, I’m sorry-” she said quietly, but Richie couldn’t hear her because the words she spoke before were looping in his head, replaying over and over, getting louder and louder until they became unbearable. He couldn’t look at her. He clenched his fists and turned away, shoving his way out of the crowd. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, the rest of the Losers staring at him in shock, but Richie couldn’t bear to look at them- especially not Eddie. Richie thought he heard one of them call his name- Bill, maybe, or Mike- but didn’t want to talk. The person controlling the music cleared his throat and announced the next song that he was going to play, and the uproar of music blasting through the speakers brought the other students out of their initial shock and confusion and reluctantly return to the dance, though no one was quite sure what had just happened- except that Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier had just yelled at and hit Beverly Marsh, who was still standing in the middle of the dancefloor, frozen with shock. 

  
  


When Richie pushed open the doors of the gymnasium, he broke into a sprint down the hallway; he wasn’t sure where he was going, but as long as it was away from that stupid dance, he didn’t care. 

He let his legs carry him outside. With sweat running down his back and his heart pounding and his lungs desperate for air and his head throbbing from a mixture of panic and confusion and anger- Richie inhaled deeply. The fresh air outside was a refreshing change from the warm and sticky atmosphere inside the gymnasium (he could finally take a breath without inhaling and choking on the amount of perfume that saturated the air inside). The cool summer air blew against him, causing his hair to lift up off his sweaty forehead and goosebumps to prickle his bare arms. The sun had already set, a thin line of orange on the horizon underneath a sky of indigo scattered with stars. Richie shut his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands firmly against his eyes, and tried to force Beverly’s words out of his head, tried to forget how scared Beverly had looked when he pushed her, tried to block out the way his friends looked at him as he left. He wanted to just forget it all. He wanted to go home. 

When he took his hands away and opened his eyes again, stars danced before his eyes and the memories from before continued to play in his head. Richie lit his third cigarette of the night and took a long drag. He didn’t particularly like smoking, but the swift burn on his tongue that came with each breath was usually enough to make him momentarily forget about the things that troubled him. 

This time, it was not. 

“Fuck.” The word passed Richie’s lips along with a puff of smoke, and he hung his head. Even though he was outside, and quite far from the dance, Richie could still hear a faint echo of the music being played from the gymnasium- he recognized the song as one he’d often hear playing on the radio, a song about being young and falling in love. 

He wished they would change the damn song.

Richie was getting down to the end of his cigarette when he heard the school doors behind him burst open. He hoped that it was just another student taking a break from the dance and getting some fresh air, but he was faced with a dreaded reality when a familiar voice shouted, “The fuck was that?”

“Go away,” Richie groaned without turning around. 

“What the hell d’you yell at Beverly for?” Eddie continued, his speech only getting faster. “I mean, right in the middle of the dance- everyone saw- and you just  _ left _ her standing there- what the fuck is wrong with you- I told all of you that you shouldn’t have been drinking that much-”

“ _ Fuck off, Eddie! _ ” Richie’s voice echoed against the cinderblock walls of the school, his words replying back to him and reminding him that this was the second time that night had yelled at someone he cared about. Eddie grew silent. Richie flung his cigarette butt away and gripped the metal railing in front of him tightly with both hands. He squeezed the bar until his knuckles paled and the rough metal scratched through his skin and his fingers felt as if they were about to break; he slowly loosened his grip, the pain in his hands fading away, but the ache in his heart only getting worse. He wanted to turn and apologize to Eddie for being an asshole, but he also feared that if he faced Eddie, he wouldn’t be able to hold anything back. 

For a moment, Eddie had become so quiet, Richie thought- or moreso, hoped- he had left. Then, something hit him. Literally. Something soft was thrown against his shoulder before falling to the ground beside him. Richie looked down slowly to see the suit jacket he had earlier abandoned, crumpled at his feet. 

“You should put it back on,” said Eddie quietly, though still matter-of-factly, “or you’ll catch a cold.” 

“It’s fucking June, idiot,” Richie replied. 

“That doesn’t mean you still can’t get sick, dipshit!”

Richie looked down at the jacket, before begrudgingly grabbing it off the ground and throwing it over his shoulders. “Happy?” he muttered. “Now leave me alone.” 

But this was Eddie Kaspbrak, so naturally, he did the opposite. He approached his friend until they stood side by side and Eddie could look at Richie properly. 

The thing about Richie Tozier was that he was a master at hiding his emotions. No matter what kind of situation he found himself in, Richie always found a way to crack a joke and keep a smirk on his face. But the Richie standing before Eddie, his mouth pulled down into a frown and his vacant eyes staring at nothing- Eddie had never seen this Richie before. 

“Dude, what is wrong with you tonight?” Eddie asked. “And don’t lie to me, because you’ve already been lying to me all night and it’s fucking annoying.”

Richie’s palm had started to bleed a little. He closed his fist, not wanting to let Eddie see or else  _ that _ would be a whole other thing: getting inside, cleaning it out- “ _ You have your tetanus shot, right? _ ”- finding a way to sanitize it. Richie couldn’t be bothered. 

“Richie,” Eddie continued. He had shifted from his usual snappy tone to a more gentle voice, one that sent chills down Richie’s back. “You can talk to me.”

Richie tore his eyes away from the field of grass in front of him and forced himself to look at Eddie for the first time since he had run out of the dance. Eddie was standing with his normal stiff-as-a-board posture with his arms crossed over his chest, but there was a sort of softness in his expression.  _ Worry, _ Richie determined. 

As he looked at Eddie, who was still waiting for a response, Richie found himself unable to control his own thoughts. He wanted to look away, to make the images stop flashing in his head, but Eddie’s warm brown eyes seemed to have caught him in some sort of trap, and he found himself unable to move. 

Richie saw himself stepping towards Eddie, taking Eddie’s face in his hands. He saw himself finally lean in all the way, giving his lips what they had been craving for what seemed like forever. He saw himself running his hands through Eddie’s hair, and even though Richie had already done that a million times before, this time it would be different, as he held Eddie close.

But he also saw Eddie putting his hands on Richie’s chest and shoving him away in disgust. He saw Eddie’s fist connecting with his cheek and knocking him to the ground. He saw Eddie spit out the slur that he had already heard enough from the other Derry High students. 

He saw Eddie hating him. 

Richie tore his eyes away from Eddie, his heart pounding against his chest. He couldn’t tell Eddie the truth. He just couldn’t. 

Loosening his grip, Richie pushed himself off the railing and turned to fully face Eddie. “I think your mom gave me crabs,” he deadpanned. “Something’s definitely not right down there.” 

Eddie held Richie’s gaze briefly. He slowly closed his eyes, his jaw clenched as he released his frustration with a long breath (though he would have rather let it out with the string of curses lined up on his tongue). When he opened his eyes again, Richie’s composure had completely changed: his mouth had curved back into his signature grin, his hands in his pockets as he nonchalantly rested his elbows against the railing. He was clearly entertained. 

“That is so not funny,” said Eddie. 

“Tell me about it.” Richie pushed himself off the railing, crudely tugging at the material of his pants around his crotch. “I’ve been suffering all night. These pants are not helping.” 

Eddie’s face twisted into a scowl as he looked away from Richie, the vein in his neck unnaturally popping out as it always did when someone got on his nerves. Richie held his smirk as he acted amused at Eddie’s annoyance, approaching his friend and slinging his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, Eddie Spaghetti, don’t be sad. I still love Sonia, crabs and all-” Richie stopped with a gasp, doubling over as Eddie’s elbow hit him in the ribs. 

“Beep-beep, Rich,” said Eddie sharply. “And don’t call me Eddie Spaghetti.” 

“Whatever you say, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie laughed through a wheeze, trying to recover the air that had been knocked out of him. But Richie was almost thankful for that blow, as he walked with his shoulders hunched and his head hanging low, because at least Eddie couldn’t see Richie’s eyes, glazed over with dejection, and his smile, weak and disheartened. His chest throbbed with dull pain, but it didn’t come from Eddie’s strike. 

Eddie should have known he wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Richie. He should have expected Richie to gloss over whatever was really bothering him with those same, old, juvenile jokes that he always favoured over actual conversation. But Eddie’s plan to follow Richie outside in the hopes of finally getting a moment alone with him wasn’t a complete failure- after all, there they were, their arms around each other as they walked down the empty, dimly-lit hallways of Derry High School for the last time. Though Eddie knew Richie’s arm around his shoulder was only platonic, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing or his hands from sweating or his ears from getting hot when Richie’s knuckle accidentally nudged Eddie’s cheek. 

Hey, Eddie thought as they approached the gymnasium once more, it couldn’t hurt to imagine that his touch meant something more. 

When Richie stepped through the big, heavy doors to the gymnasium, his eyes immediately scanned the room for Beverly. Among the sea of students, she stood out like a match lit in the darkness, her hair a blaze of orange bundled on the top of her head and the emerald sequins on her dress sparkling under the dim lights. She was dancing with Ben, her arms around his neck and his around her waist as they swayed to the slow beat of the music, her chin resting on his shoulder and her eyes gently closed. She seemed so calm, so peaceful- so contrary to how she was when Richie saw her last, when he pushed her away and left her alone. 

When the heavy doors closed behind Eddie and Richie with a thud, Beverly’s eyes opened with a start and landed on the two boys standing on the outskirts of the gymnasium. From across the room she met Richie’s eyes, and with a look of tenderness he had never seen from her before, she mouthed, “ _ I’m sorry. _ ” 

Though it was only two simple words, Richie felt an immense weight lift off his chest. And as Beverly’s red-painted lips curved upwards, Richie couldn’t help but mimic her smile as he replied silently,  _ “Me too.” _ Across the room, those two words brought the same wave of comfort to Beverly. Her smile grew even wider as the tension melted off her back, and she held Ben a little bit closer. 

Richie looked around the room for the rest of his friends, but he couldn’t pick any of them out from the crowd of students. His best guess was that they were back in the bathroom, or had moved outside- either way, they had most likely moved due to both Bill and Stanley’s laughable ability to handle their alcohol. As if he could read his mind, Eddie spoke up from beside Richie, “How much you wanna bet that Stan’s in the bathroom right now puking up his guts?” Richie laughed- genuinely, this time- and nodded. “Honestly, I was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.” He turned to Eddie, just as it had outside, when Richie saw the other boy’s face, a sudden rush surged through him, and his mind began to wander again. 

He could have asked Eddie if he wanted to dance. Just once, Richie would have liked to take Eddie’s hand and step to the soft beat of the song playing. He would have liked to look down into Eddie’s eyes and smile- maybe even tell Eddie how he felt. Maybe even kiss him. 

Later, Richie wouldn’t be able to decide if it had been a blessing or a curse when the moment he had opened his mouth to speak, the song changed- a loud and fast song that instantly caused the mass of students to separate from their embraces and begin jumping and singing along. Eddie flinched slightly at the sudden change in music, mumbling something about the volume being damaging to their ears, before turning back to Richie. “Were you going to say something?” 

Richie felt his face become engulfed by a hot blush as he quickly looked away. His tie suddenly felt far too tight around his neck and the dryness in this throat made it hard for him to form any words. “I- uh- I’m going to get a drink,” he managed to splutter out before swiftly walking away from Eddie. His head was pounding, but he forced himself to continue putting one foot in front of the other, then again, then again, until he reached the refreshments table. 

Had he seriously thought that? Had he really thought that he could just take Eddie’s hand and waltz right back onto the dancefloor with him- into the crowd of people who had been ruthlessly picking on them for years? Richie made himself laugh. “Idiot,” he mumbled to himself, and brought the glass of punch he had poured himself up to his lips. He flinched when he took the first sip, not expecting the bitter but familiar taste of vodka to be mixed in with the juice- but he couldn’t stop himself from downing the whole glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked down at the bowl on the table, nearly full with the mixture of juice and vodka and God knows what else. As he poured himself another round, Richie sent a silent thanks to whichever student was responsible. 

Word got around quickly that someone had spiked the punch at the back of the room, and it wasn’t long before the gymnasium was filled with students stumbling over each other and passing out on the floor. It was just past midnight when the doors opened and they were set free- no longer high school students, no longer prisoners in that sad excuse for a school. Richie, who had already drank most of the punch himself before the other students had found out, staggered through the doors with one arm around Beverly and the other around Eddie, who were working very hard to keep him upright and on his feet. Richie and Eddie had in fact, been correct about their earlier assumption- Bill and Stan had definitely drank too much and had vomited up everything they had consumed before the dance. The two were worse for wear, their faces pale and their eyes barely open as they trudged along with the group, with Bill leaning against Mike for support. Richie, on the other hand, hadn’t reached that stage of the night yet; he was still pleasantly buzzed, smiling brightly as he stumbled along with his friends, bellowing out whatever thoughts came to his mind.

“Sorry for being kindofadicktonight,” he announced, his words slurring together, “I think Eddie’s mom gave me  _ crabs _ .” Eddie just rolled his eyes, ignoring the slight urge to take his arm away from Richie’s waist and let him fall down onto his face. “Sorry, Bevvie,” Richie continued, turning to face Beverly and placing a wet kiss on her cheek. Eddie looked away as Beverly laughed, replying with a gentle, “that’s alright, Richie,” which caused him to kiss her again. 

It was soon time for them to separate- Mike and Ben offered to take the ill Bill and Stanley home, while Beverly and Eddie took responsibility for Richie. And although they all knew they would be seeing each other again- most likely the very next day- as they split off into different directions, something felt off. Maybe it was the other side of the realization that they had finished high school- the realization that they were no longer kids, free to do whatever their hearts desired whenever they wanted, without any feeling of worry accompanying them. 

But now, as Eddie walked down the familiar streets of Derry, down the road to Richie’s house which he had walked so many times that he could now easily navigate without even thinking, that sense of worry seemed to be following him. That night, not only had the realization of finishing high school hit Eddie, but he was also faced with the reality that he was going to be leaving soon. He tried to push the idea out of his mind, focusing on the incoherent nonsense that Richie was babbling- “ _ Where are we going? I thought we were supposed to be at prom!"- _ but it was difficult to  _ not _ think about the drastic change that was soon going to affect each of the Losers deeply. 


End file.
